Do You Want To Build A Snowman?
by JanuaryWords
Summary: "Do you want to build a snowman?" Ten year old Lily wondered out loud, eyeing her sister warily. Petunia's eyes harden; cold blocks of ice in contrary to her younger sister's fern green pools. (Frozen! Song-fic. Mild Jily is in there, but it revolves around Lily and Petunia.)


**Bold** is the lyrics. _Italics_ are thoughts, writing, emphasis, past memories, etc. Underlined is special font.

* * *

**"Do you want to build a snowman?" **

A small, red headed girl, age 5 1/2, thank you very much, was perched outside her sister's creamy white, wooden door, legs sprawled across the red-carpeted hall, arms braced against the frame. The little girl had been positioned there for the past half hour, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, coming so close to speaking, then falling short in courage. _Again_. It was a brisk January morning, the time somewhere between four and five, where the sun was reluctantly ascending away from it's bed far east, emitting rich, orange beams, rendering the stunning _three feet_ of snow a translucent red, orange, and pink blend. It had been a nature for the two sisters to go out early, flit and dart around, screaming, shouting, laughing at the irritated threats thrown at them from neighbors. They would climb and dig, explore their safe haven they've lived in their whole lives, wandering the town, looking through every crook and cranny, learning over again every crevice they've already known existed, in _snow_. That was the way it was.

The only problem with this plan was that Petunia was ignoring the girl.

**"Come on, let's go and play!"** she continued, unsure of her place in her older sister's book.

She didn't know _why_ Petunia was avoiding her. It's been happening for the past month, now. Ever since she showed her older sister the petunias she brought to life, and had them dance for their namesake. It happened everywhere. When she bounced down to the kitchen in the morning, and plopped down in her green chair, beaming at her waffles, Petunia would mutter an excuse, and flee the room, off to school. An hour early. Leaving a confused little girl to turn up, bloody and scraped, late, because she took a wrong turn and tripped over a weed, scattering all her books. When she faltered into older sister in the hall, ecstatic because of the twenty-six chaptered book she just finished, the blond girl would sneer and hurry to her second grade class. Even after school, she would be rejected attention _and_ affection from her sister. Even when offered to pick the movie, disgusted by the little girl's presence, she would mumble a practiced excuse, ranging from,

"I need to do my math facts," and "I'm kind of tired," to "My grandmother is in the hospital."

The little red head was almost positive Grandma Lucy was fine.

**"I never see you anymore," **she expanded, almost on the brink of feebly. She was half talking to herself, small face tilted down, confusion written along the lines of her face.

Petunia consistently denied her request of company, dejecting her in front of all her tall, blonde, friends, who squealed when you mentioned a boy's name and gossiped routinely about the newest cosmetics, or whatever, because they all had _older_ sisters and Petunia was stuck with a stupid _younger_ one. Once, she sprinted home, leaving the younger girl in the dust, and didn't come out of her room until later that night. She strutted down the stairs, a new face plastered onto her face, a horse-like face if you turned your head at a ninety degree angle and squinted. The kindergartener tried that.

"What... what are you wearing?" their mother stuttered after setting the long, silver kitchen knife on the counter, having gripped it until her knuckles were white and raised it up against the newcomer.

"Make up! Sylvia lent some to me. Is it okay?" she demanded, fretting and tentatively touching the eye make up lining her small, pale lips.

Petunia and Daisy had a long talk up in the room with the pale yellow wallpaper and blue comforters.

Petunia scorned the girl when she mentioned her recent theory; that the tooth fairy granted her powers instead of the shiny quarter her older sister got. She frowned in annoyance when the red head hugged her on her seventh birthday, stiffening, not even making an effort to stifle the groan that transmitted from the back of her throat. She snickered along with the other second graders while the third grade boy Vernon tripped all the kindergarteners; her sister included.

**"Come out the door," **

_She's probably still sleeping. She wouldn't let a silly grudge get in the way... _the girl reassured herself, rotating the cold, golden knob.

She was met by the faded yellow walls, and a small note on Petunia's blue writing desk, stating clearly,

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_I am staying at a friend's house this weekend. Do not worry about me, and make sure you keep my snow equipment in storage; I do not believe I will be needing it any time soon. Also, please inform Lily to STAY OUT OF MY ROOM, and by extension, MY LIFE._

_Love,_

_Petunia._

A single tear rolled down the red head's cheek.

**"It's like you've gone away."**

* * *

The car ride to Grandma Lucy's was always long and tense.

On one side of the backseat, sat Petunia Evans. Eleven, blonde, blue eyed. Average. Preferred routine to adventure. Fancied the right, the normal side.

On the other, was Lily Evans, draped over the blue and stained seat. Nine, auburn haired, emerald green eyes training on the hovering dolls swooping through the trunk. Shunned. Banished to the shadows, to the solitary life. Until she met Severus.

Currently, the automobile was being evacuated by the adults, departing to ask for directions, leaving Petunia stranded with the... _Freak_. With a but a small seat separating them physically, the older girl struggled to control her breathing, terrified she might get infected.

_"Diseased,"_ she'd inform everyone, _"Something wrong with her blood. Infects the brain. Highly contagious, safer to stay away."_

And here she was, hypocritically sitting in a two-foot radius of the contaminated. And then she started talking to herself.

**"We used to be best buddies,"** she murmured, sneaking a glance at her older sister, emerald eyes shining with strife.

_She's talking to me?_ The older girl wondered, turning her head out the window, trailing the blurs of colors, wishing she could go with them, leave the awkwardness in this life and just be _normal_. She tried so much, and of course she's born with the most abnormal situation of all time. All she could do now was try to stay healthy.

**"And now we're not,"** she stated, looking away from the dolls, letting them slowly cascade onto the trunks and luggage, and staring at Petunia in a way that made her squirm. She wished she would just go away!

And then she faced back and pressed her nose up against the window, breathing and creating a canvas of condensation to sketch on. She deliberately traced two little girls holding hands, one with long curly hair, the taller one with short and straight. Dragging her finger around, she charted a small heart above her head and wrote backward.

ainuteP + yliL

**"I wish you would tell me why,"** she whispered, leaning back against the headrest and fluttering her eyes shut.

* * *

**"Do you want to build a snowman?"** Ten year old Lily wondered out loud, eyeing her sister warily.

Petunia's eyes harden; cold blocks of ice in contrary to her younger sister's fern green pools.

"You can come with Sev and me." she added, a smile threatening to grace when she realized Petunia's barricades were tumbling down. Slowly, though. It was a process.

Petunia was almost certain her younger sister was using some sort of mind trick her greasy haired friend taught her; her walls were crumbling, watching the younger girl's face light up in triumph. She struggled to get a grip on herself.

The two sisters were walking to school; their father had practically held a gun to Petunia's head declaring if the older girl ditched the small fourth grader, he would personally inform her best friend, Sylvia, himself his daughter would not be attending her thirteenth birthday party. That wasn't going to happen. So Petunia Evans was stuck escorting an over-eager auburn headed ten year old to school a week after she transitioned from nine to ten. Still hyped from her birthday, the resourceful little witch skipped valiantly in the rising February sun, her hair blazing like flames as it trailed behind her while her older sister's shimmered golden. While Lily's blue and gray uniform was loose and crumpled, Petunia's was tight and crease-free, causing Petunia to internally laugh at the drastic difference in opinion. One would never guess they were sisters. At least, that's what the older girl hoped.

"We're going down to the bank, because the snow is the best there, I keep on telling him. Remember when we used to go there? The snow was thick and..." Her voice faltered, as she observed her older sister stiffen at the memory.

"I'm not coming with you," she affirmed, turning her head and lifting her nose, missing the flicker of pure disappointment in her sister's green eyes. They were approaching the school, and she sped up her pace.

**"It doesn't have to be a snowman...****"** Lily called after her, her voice drifting with the wind, so the sentence full of desperation barely reached the twelve year old''s ears.

_It doesn't have to be a snowman..._

**"Go _away,_" **Petunia pleaded, agitation clear in her expression.

Lily turned away, and started wandering over to her wing.

**"Okay, bye..."**

* * *

_Dear Petunia,_

_I know it's been a while, but I miss you. A lot. I'd like to think you miss me to. Because I hope you love me. I love you. _

_It's so brilliant at Hogwarts! I'm learning all these new things; Did you know that I can turn a rabbit into a picture frame now? Apparently, that's above first year standards, and I'm already top of my class!__ I'm best at charms, though. When I get home, I can show you some! There's a straightening charm, so now when I'm the maid of honor at your wedding, I can have straight hair instead of this head of hair I have right now. Do you remember when how we used to talk about that? _

_There's also this stinging hex I've mastered; Now I have my defense against Vernon Dursley! He's so awful. I don't know how you put up with him._

_Speaking of awful, there's this group of boys, the _Maurders_, I think they call them? They're really nasty people; except maybe Remus Lupin. They call me stupid and boring... Do you think I'm boring? I wouldn't like to think so. I don't believe I would've gotten into Gryffindor if I was. Maybe Ravenclaw._

_I finally am making more friends! You always told me I needed friends; besides Severus. He's been so sweet lately; I feel so bad for him. He's the victim of so many pranks. I don't know for certain, but I'm pretty sure James Potter is behind it. He says he fancies me. I'm not quite sure what that means. I mean, of course I've been reading those books since first grade, but if anything, he despises me. He pranks me night and day. Just for associating with Sev! _

_And it's not just that. The Slytherins are consistently calling me a 'Mudblood'. I'm not certain what that means, but I know there's a war going on and you're in danger. I'm really scared, Petunia. Like, really scared. It's like in one of the books I read. They think because of where you come from determines who you are as a whole. And that's what's happening. I feel like I don't belong anywhere. Here everyone has known this stuff since the beginning of time; I've known since I was ten. They've had a huge head start, and I need to work twice as hard. And since I do, and I don't know certain things, and I know certain other things, I'm five years old, and I am the dirt on their shoes. And with the Muggles(non-magical folk), I'm a freak, and I don't belong anywhere... I'm alienated... I don't know who to trust._

_Over Christmas break, maybe I will come home. We could talk on the couch and drink hot chocolate and laugh and gossip together. I just want to be friends. I'm sorry I'm magical. I'm sorry I'm younger than you. I'm sorry_ I'm me_. I just..._

**_Do you want to build a snowman?_**

_Name it Damien? Make a family for him? Where his daughters aren't separated by something as silly as... I don't even know... _

_I'm sorry Petunia. I am. If I did something wrong... I regret it. I'm sorry I wasn't brilliant enough for you._

_Just please play with me._

**_We could ride our bikes around the hall._**

_I've tried that. It's fun. If you don't want to make a snowman. _

_I'm fine with anything._

_How's school? How's mum and dad? How is Sylvia? How are you?_

_Hoping you reply,_

Lily

The eleven year old flicked a wisp of flaming red hair out of her eyes, signing her name at the bottom of the parchment, and went to look for a brown barn owl to send this with. She had already finished her parent's letters, and the one friend she had in the muggle world was written to once a week with her parents, but after that tawny owl had flown off, she still felt... empty.

"Hey, Evans!" a voice called out from behind. She sighed, and fumbled with the letter behind her back, praying James wouldn't see it.

"What is it, Potter?" she muttered, eyeing the lanky, black-haired boy suspiciously. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, only slightly dimmed by the glare from his glasses, the sun hovering high in the sky. She blew a strand of hair out of her face(again), cursing whatever gene had given her this head of hair. She shuffled her feet, and backed up against the castle wall.

"What do you have... here?"

He snatched the letter, reaching around her, sharp movement startling her so she dropped the envelope. Terror stretched across her face as he opened the slip and plucked the parchment from it's bed.

"Who's it for, _you're boyfriend_," he taunted, scanning through it.

"No, my sister..." she mumbled dejectedly, playing with her hair.

"I think I will keep this," he announced, when he was done, hazel eyes sparkling with triumph.

"Okay... Fine." she murmured, more disappointed than angry. She expected him to take this opportunity to tease her, and she braced herself for impact, but he just turned on his heel and left.

Unbeknownst to her he sent to letter.

...

After he read it to the whole school during lunch the next day.

* * *

**"**I think some company is overdue, Petunia," Daisy Evans mollified her daughter, rubbing her back.

"No!" the teenager protested, scrambling to stand up, and leave the room, but was pulled back down. Lily sat there, awkward, face reddening to the roots of her hair. She felt embarrassed and insecure; her sister was throwing a tantrum because she despised the idea of spending time with her sister.

Her sky blue eyes were widening in horror, her hands were shaking, her hair was frizzy. Horror lined her facial features, which made the twelve year old Lily's heart stop; Her sister was _terrified_ by the thought of being alone in the room with her. Her hand subconsciously ran through her hair, shuddering at the prospect.

"I'm locking the door, Petunia," their mother warned them, "I want you to be civil."

"No! Please! Don't leave me alone with her! Mum! No! Please! I'll do anything! Anything! Just please! Please don't-"

She was sobbing, curling up into a ball and rocking back and forth. The younger girl felt awkward; she caused this state...

**"I think some company is overdue..."** Lily mimicked her mother, causing her older sister to look up with a tear-stained expression. Her eyes clouded, unfocused for a moment, then closing in on the younger girl like a vulture. The red head flinched into the couch, but continued.

"I'm so alone, Petunia. I mean, sure, I have friends, _great_ friends. I'd die for them, and I'd like to think they'd do the same for me. But I'm alone and no one understands me," she notified her sister, not looking at her, but out the window and towards the forest, and beyond.

**"I've started talking to the pictures of the wall,"** she added. Remembering her friend, Joan, who had been shipped away to an American school. She was a muggle-born too; the closest one to the Gryffindor common room. She sat there for hours at end, talking, consulting, venting. When she was informed that her friend was leaving, she desperately put as many hours as she could with her. At least she had a warning this time. With Petunia, she was there one day, but distant the next.

_**"Hang in there, Joan."**_

_"Haha. Very funny. But you, Lily, are what we are talking about now. I will be fine. Maybe one day we will meet again. But you need me now and I hate that I am abandoning you in your time of need."_

_"There aren't any letter I can send you?"_

_"I wish."_

_"I hope you have a nice time in America."_

_"I better. Because that's the only think I'll have left."_

_"..."_

_"Lily?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"You're a good kid."_

Petunia snorted, and Lily glanced at her in frustration.

"How's Vernon?" she wondered, attempting to hide her insincerity.

"Leave him out of this," Petunia snarled, stretching across the golden rug.

Lily just shrugged, and absorbed the state of the house. Perfect and in place. Of course it was with her older sister living here. She let her hair fall into her eyes, just this once. Just this once she would be a coward.

So they just sat there. Side by side.

The first time in a long time.

* * *

_Dear Petunia,_

_I know I haven't written to you in a long time, but I decided to give it a shot. __I don't know what to tell you; you don't want to hear. You don't want to listen. __I won't mention the 'M' word if you'd like. Or make an references. __Will you please just listen to me then?_

_I miss us. And I'm way to tired to try to figure out why. And I know you're not going to tell me either. So is this what we're settling for? A ask no questions, tell no lies? I'm just so tired, Petunia. And scared. I found out what's happening. And I know I'm going to die. Not by natural causes, though. I can feel it. Do you know what that feels like? To know you're going to die, and you can't do anything about it?_

_I know how I'm going to die, too. By a wand. By an 'Avada Kedavra' curse; the killing curse. And it scares me half to death itself. What scares me more is that you could be effected too._

_Do you know awful it is to be fourteen and know how you're going to die? It's awful. And no one knows. I get nightmares. I see myself dying. I'm in my twenties, and my husband drops dead. There's a flash of green light and his last words are,_

_"Lily! Take him and go! I'll hold him off!"_

_And then he's gone. He drops to the floor, and I don't see him. I know he is, but I forget every time I wake up. _

_But that's not it._

_I run up with a baby boy in my arms, up the stairs, grief and dull anger submerged in an intense battle in my stomach. I loved him. But I'm upstairs, and I plead for my son's life, and he laughs. His laugh is like nails, Petunia, nails. Like hot tar. Like cold water. All in one. It's awful. And then he raises his voice, and murmurs two. short. words._

_And then I wake up._

_Every night._

_You're the only one who knows. _

_I'm all alone here. _

_No one cares. _

_Please help me._

**_It gets a little lonely. _**_It's like being surrounded by food, and you're starving, but the second you reach out, it slips away. Then magnify that feeling by a hundred. You're _alone._ No one cares if you live or die. You're _unwanted.

_And there's everyone, and there's no one. And it's Christmas. I'm alone with two teachers, and three students. I'm alone all the time. There's everyone, but no one. _

_I love you, Petunia._

Lily

* * *

"My family is coming!" Lily exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her red hair streamed behind her as she dashed across the huge, green lawn stretching across Hogwart's property, passing the blue depths of the lake, and the flitting darkness that inhabiting the Forbidden Forest. She tumbled into James Potter, who didn't really mind that much. He was practically in love with the lithe fifteen year old, and any physical contact lit his day up. Including slaps.

"Oh my Merlin, I'm so sorry!" she apologized, pulling herself up from above him and offering her hand. He took it, cautiously.

_She's in a good mood..._

"Why are you in such a good mood, Evans?" he inquired, steadying himself on her, half expecting her to push him away put she didn't.

"My family is coming!" she confessed, eyes lighting up in excitement, "They've never been here before, and now's my chance to prove to Petunia that I'm _not_ a waste of space. I hope she comes. It would be so awfu-"

"Wait, back up. Who said you were a waste of space?" James was shocked. Lily, in his eyes, was all the perfection in the world concentrated into one person. She, was his gift from god. She was who he breathed for.

Her green eyes clouded in distress, eyes hazy and unfocused.

"She's my sister. Petunia. One day we were friends, _best _friends, the next day, she hates me... It's quite sad, actually..." she responded after a moment, despair lining her voice for a second, before she shook her head, and continued.

"But they're muggles, you see, they don't exactly understand what I do here. They're coming next week. Well, bye James."

And she skipped off, darting around between people and leaving James a little dizzy behind her.

_She used my name..._

* * *

Mrs. and Mr. Evans were finished with their lunch, and were off with a delighted Professor Flitwick who was rapidly informing them about their daughter's progress in Charms, leaving the two Evans girls to sit together.

"Petunia?"

No answer. Said sister was too busy staring at a certain Potter.

**"All these empty room,** Petunia. That's what scares me the most."

No response.

"Please, Petunia..."

**"I'm just watching the hours tick by..."**

Petunia glanced behind her, blue eyes filled with irritation.

"It's like a time bomb; You know it's about to set off, and you're wasting time watching, but you can't look away. You have nothing better to do."

"Who's that?"

"James. James Potter," she replied, impatient.

"Oi! James!"

A head snapped up.

"Yes?"

Petunia practically purred. James shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm leaving," the younger girl announced, and stomped out, annoyed.

"No, wait! Lily, wait for me!"

* * *

Time passed. Seasons changed. People died.

Mark and Daisy Evans were among those people.

Lily cried for a month. Petunia sent letters of hatred. They both sat on the floor, and just stared at the fire.

James, the boyfriend, hated seeing Lily cry. Vernon, the husband, couldn't care less about Petunia.

After a little time, Lily apparated to Petunia's doorstep.

The younger girl knocked.

**"Please, I know you're in there," **she murmured through the thick door, leaning against the door frame and sliding down, crouching into a ball and burying her face in her hands.

She studied the neighborhood. Quite boring, actually. The houses, which were identical with the same shape and size, and the same pale yellow Petunia's old bedroom was painting onto the wooden planks. They were evenly spaced, and the lawns were green and each blade of grass seemed to be dipped in some sort of oil, shining in the dying sun as they all stood at the same height.

**"People have been asking where you've been."**

Lily eyed the dying sun, giving out choppy sparks of light, making her hair flash. It was like the sun symbolized the relationship between her and her older sister. It was actually quite ironic.

**"They say 'have courage,' and I'm trying to," **she admitted, rubbing her red hands together, the frigid air biting her unclothed neck.

"Can't I just be scared? Do I have to be brave? I need help, Petunia."

**"I'm right out here for you," **she reminded her older sister, voice cracking, watching the sun with fascination. It dipped up before it settled under the horizon, casting stray beam over the snow. Lily's hair danced once more.

**"Just let me in,"** she whispered, as darkness engulfed the world.

A tear slipped down her face.

* * *

_Dear Petunia,_

_I've come to write you for a few reasons._

_1. You missed my wedding._

_Were you mad that I didn't make you maid of honor? I couldn't really; if you didn't show up, what would I do? I'm sorry I didn't keep my promise. We were short one bridesmaid. Are annoyed we didn't give Vernon a position?_

_Did you not get the invitation? I never got yours, that's why I could never come. I regret it to this day. It probably got lost in all of Hogwarts' mail._

_Speaking of which, you never came to my graduation, three years ago. I had no family. None. Everyone else had parents, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts uncles, Merlin, even half cousins and third cousins!_

_I had no one._

_I'm currently working as a healer. But it won't be for long. _

_2. I've had a son, Harry James Potter. _

_I've heard through the grapevine that you've had one a month before Harry. Dudley? Dudley Dursley? _

_He sounds like a beautiful little boy. Probably takes after his mother._

_But back to my son._

_I won't be here much longer._

_When I die, if Harry survives, I need you to take Harry and raise him as your own. It's the least you can do after you took away my big sister. You owe me. I tried being there for you, but did I fall short? Did I embarrass you? I regret what I did. I'll take the question my grave. Why do you hate me?_

_**We only have each other. **I couldn't dare tell James. I want to help you. I can't if you don't let me._

**_It's just you and me._**_ You need to help Harry. He's destined to do great things; will you help him? Be the mother I can't be. Not the sister you could've been._

_3. We're going into hiding._

_This is the last you'll be hearing from me. I don't know what I'm going to do. I miss you, Petunia. I love you. I think it's too late for us to start over, but it's not too late for Harry. Be his aunt. Be his mother. Be his friend. I'm not sure how this is giving to happen..._

**_What are we going to do? _**_Petunia... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for whatever I've done. I'm sorry for not trying harder to fix our relationship._

_Just... Please._

_I love you,_

Lily

* * *

A small, black haired boy with round, dusty glasses was waiting patiently outside his aunt and uncle's room, wide, green eyes drooping with exhaustion, having performed his first all-nighter at the age of three. His hands tingled, and his legs crossed over one another, cramping his calfs and contracting his posture. He wasn't allowed to slouch, he was told.

The sun was slowly escalating, up, out from the horizon, blasting dancing light on the thick, fluffy snow that lined the ground. The frosty air fogged up his glasses, causing him to pull down his sleeve to wipe it away, revealing in full form his brilliant green eyes, his mother's eyes, unbeknownst to him. Also, his mother's intention.

A twenty-five year old Petunia Dursley groggily shifted in her bed, irritated that Vernon had pushed her all the way over, _again_. It was a daily routine, it seemed.

Tossing and turning, she hesitantly decided to get up, yawning and scratching in the cold four thirty air. Padding out into the hallway, she was met by her slight nephew, whose eyes sparkled as bright as the snow.

**"Do you want to build a snowman?"**

* * *

Author's Note-

Well, that was, what the fourth time I wrote it? This thing was written over two computers, a phone, and an iPad. _All_ which deleted it at least once. Ugh.

I loved Frozen. I cried when Ana sang this song. It reminded me exactly of Lily and Petunia, but I only noted that like a week ago. Haha. I love that movie...

I'd also should do a disclaimer...

Disclaimer- The song, _Do You Want To Build A Snowman?_, is NOT mine. It is Frozen's. The characters(Except Grandma Lucy) are NOT mine. The writing, however, is and the idea is then again mine as well.

Well, I'm gonna go post this. This one-shot has 5,000 words. I'm pretty proud.

Should I make a Frozen soundtrack? I have an idea for "Let it Go"...

Thank you! Review, if you must! Favorite, if you have to! Follow, if you need to! PM me if you love or hate it, or feel strongly about it!

Also, please do brit-pick this. I am an amateur, first British piece of writing, as of cats usually aren't British(Although, the lake is in the UK, as Vicky so kindly informed us...) , and most of my work is either mine or Warriors-based. Mostly Warriors.

Yes, I know she doesn't stop talking to her until she's nine, but in the MOVIEEEEEE Ana is five and Elsa is about eight...

It's better this way.

Love you all!

JanuaryWords


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